


we're afraid of messing (with purity)

by adorescence



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Guns, Inception!AU, M/M, Mentions of Blood, mention of suicide, sort of but idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 04:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13427055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorescence/pseuds/adorescence
Summary: “I’m asking you nicely. Please-“Chan was pulling his trigger, and the second after Hansol fell on his back, his throat broken with a bullet burning fire through.“-wake up.”





	we're afraid of messing (with purity)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Aqua Timez's Midnight Orchestra. And i'm sorry, for the whole fic.

_i_.

  
“Mingyu hyung didn’t lie when he said this hill is good for star-gazing and spacing out. You can clearly see through.”

  
The younger of two stood in awe, his eyes wandering far to the stars up there, Hansol guessed he might have tears in his eyes. But he let him be, taking a seat on the grass beside where the younger stood up as he put his bag of snacks carelessly in front of him. The hill was silent and peaceful, and the stars were bright, painted all over the sky.

  
Hansol recognized it was his childhood with Chan.

  
It stayed like that for minutes long, before he decided to tug at the younger’s hoodie. Chan turned his head to where the older just tugged at him, and he found him patting the grass below him, giving him a sign to sit down instead of standing. He complied without saying anything, flopping down then bringing his knees close to his chest, hugging them.

  
Hansol opened a bag of seaweed-flavoured chips, offering Chan, who whole-heartedly took almost half of the bag to his hands. He only scoffed in amusement, but he let him be. He never say no to him, after all. Not that he never want to. He just, couldn’t. For some strange reasons he could never explain, even for himself.

  
“Cha-“

  
Getting no chance to finish his sentence when a gun being fired could be heard, and when he searched for where the sound was coming, he found Chan beside him, chest flooding with blood, his hoodie was tainted with red. Hansol shouted for him to stay awake, but when the younger stopped moving, eyes closed and he found his heart was no longer beating, he _raged_.

  
He took his hidden gun from where he kept it inside his jacket, yelling at whoever was just killing the younger.

  
But when a bullet pierced through his head, he realized he completely forgot about the _kick_ , and when he woke up, Mingyu was there with the tools, looking at him, apologetically.

 

 

 

 _ii_.

  
The paper clip between his thumb and pointed finger was bent.

  
He took a glance to where Chan’s body rested. They just changed his regular infuse and dose of serum, and he was still breathing. Only sleeping with countless dreams he could never wake up from.

  
Aqua Timez’s Midnight Orchestra was playing, he could hear the melody through his earphones.

  
And Hansol was definitely not in a dream.

 

 

 

 _iii_.

  
“Come home with me, Chan.”

  
It felt sad, somehow.

  
The way Chan pointed a gun at him was not, the betrayal was. He stood right beside the yakuza, and it hurted Hansol. But pain’s an old friend. He could do everything to make the younger back to him.

  
This whole scene was stupid, somehow. He remembered seeing this in a movie he watched with Chan?

  
“Home? Nothing’s home.” The younger fired back at him. He was dressed in a suit, black and fitting his figure. The yakuza boss smirked at him, and Hansol felt like he needed to pull the trigger on his gun, finishing him off. But he held back, he needed to get Chan back.

  
“I’m asking you nicely. Please-“

  
Chan was pulling his trigger, and the second after Hansol fell on his back, his throat broken with a bullet burning fire through.

  
“- _wake up_.”

 

 

 

iv.

  
Wonwoo came to his room often. He brought food and new clothes, making sure the younger live. He patted Hansol’s back sometimes, assuring him Chan would be back.

  
But when he took out the paper clip, it was bent.

  
_Reality is reality_.

 

 

 

v.

  
Hansol thought of dying for real instead of fighting and being killed in dreams, _sometimes_.

 

 

 

vi.

  
“Don’t you want to come home, with me?”

  
The beach was peaceful, it reminded him of Cabrillo, and walking side to side with Chan like this, fingers interwined, sometimes made him thought of just staying here with him. But up there people wanted him to wake up, for Chan to _wake up_.

  
_Reality is reality_. And this beach came from a memory of when Chan visited him at Los Angeles.

  
Chan only chuckled as he said sorry, the corner of his mouth turned upwards, Hansol was aching to see that when he wake up.

  
But he didn’t rage this time, when men in black suits approached them, one of them stabbing knife repeatedly to his abdomen.

  
When he woke up, it was Wonwoo with the tools. He ducked his head down, sighing like he had been defeated by a worst enemy.

 

 

 

vii.

  
Hansol stood in front of Chan’s room longer than usual without taking a step inside. Mingyu eyed him suspiciously, but he just walked past him.

 

 

 

viii.

  
“I don’t know how to go back.”

  
Chan brushed his bangs lovingly. The night was loud with cars passing by despite it being 11 o’clock. Hansol looked up from where he laid his head on Chan’s thighs, admiring the younger’s face.

  
“I know how to. But i need you to want me to bring you back.”

  
The younger smiled down at him. From all his efforts, it was sincere, like the most sincere smile he ever got. But Hansol wanted to know if sincere means a will. To say he’s tired might be too much, but he felt anger of making failures pained him to his bones sometimes, and at some points, he believed it has to _stop_.

  
“I always wanted to. But maybe, not now.”

  
The ground was shaking, and Hansol could see the roof was crumbling down, pieces of sharp rocks and everything from the construction falling off and raining them, some cutted deep into their skins, some knocked them on their heads that he could feel blood slowly dripping.

  
Hansol stopped wishing, when he woke up.

 

 

 

xi.

  
“I don’t know where will i go after this but in case i’m not waking up, take all my money. I sent you the password to my safety box. Check your mail.”

  
He told Wonwoo one morning, hot americano and vanilla biscuits on his coffee table. He was reading _The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas_. Wonwoo only squinted his eyes at him, probably not taking him seriously, because he laughed hard after that.

 

 

 

x.

  
He didn’t mean to stab Chan right on his heart, but using a gun on him would cause an uproar and Mingyu could kill him instantly before his plan worked out. So he kept his composure. And when the monitor beside his bed finally beeped long, then Hansol took his gun out, pointing it on his own temple, smiling warmly over Chan’s now dead body.

  
_Reality is reality_ , he thought.

  
“If we are about to be reincarnated," he inhaled calmly, "I hope you’d prefer to live in reality with me instead of every dream you’ve always commit a suicide in,” he said in a content exhale, seconds before he pulled the trigger with tears rolling down from his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Here, Hansol is a complete realist, and Chan sleeps in limbo to avoid reality.


End file.
